


Little Secrets

by TheDameintheRaininMaine



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Banter, F/M, Oral Sex, Workplace Sex, oliver queen is a terrible detective, safe sex is important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3213683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDameintheRaininMaine/pseuds/TheDameintheRaininMaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity never thought things would happen between her and Oliver like this. But it turns out there's a thing or two he didn't know about her either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Of all the times that Felicity had imagined this, it had never been like this. 

This, being of course, making out with Oliver, while in desperate pursuit of both of their nudity. 

And like this, being in an eight by eight foot file room at QC on their lunch break under one fluorescent light with a desk chair shoved hastily under the door handle. 

At work sure, at the foundery, at her apartment, in her car, in Verdant, or in an alley...

OK, maybe she should admit that her fantasies were fairly varied.

But they had never involved having her naked back pressed into a row of boxes and a faint dry smell invading her nostrils. 

"I have to admit" Felicity starts, while Oliver is preoccupied with the skin over the pulse point in her neck "I had my doubts about the locale, but the storage room does have it's appeal what with the whole 'anyone could walk in at any time' thing". 

Oliver freezes and his eyes widen. He reaches over to shove the chair back harder against the handle. 

"I thought you said no one ever uses this closet?"

"Wha..they don't...I was just kidding, I'm not an exhibitionist, I promise, I don't think either of us is going to be turned on by Bob from accounting walking in and getting an eyeful".

Oliver grunts, and plants his lips back on hers, softly and slowly enough to make her knees feel like jelly. 

"Good, because I don't want to share this moment with anyone". 

Felicity smiles. She feels like she hasn't stopped smiling since this had started. Neither of them has uttered any expectations, but it feels like both of them know this isn't a lunch break fling. 

Oliver reaches around to try and unhook her bra. 

"Wait" She reaches down her front and undoes the clasp, letting out an undignified squeak when his lips latch onto one of her nipples. 

"Great invention that is" she remarks. 

Oliver pauses her attentions to reply "Greatest invention" .

Felicity is really enjoying the current situation, but it really isn't fair. Oliver had been so quick to plunder her lips, find her sensitive spots on her neck and that she really enjoyed having her ear piercing kissed, that it had blissed her out to the point that she had hardly gotten to touch him at all. 

So she reaches for his suit jacket. 

"off"

He complies, and she starts at the top of his shirt, unbuttoning slowly. 

She's seen him shirtless plenty, but goddamn, she is going to enjoy this. 

She almost loses her leverage for a minute when she feels his hand creep up her skirt, but he jerks it back like it was on fire. 

"Why aren't you wearing underwear?"

Felicity blinks for a moment, finishing the last button on his shirt and pushing it open, then remembering...

"Because this is a really thin skirt and it clings to every little crease and line but it makes my legs look really good?"

Oliver's pupils are blown wide now, his fingers creeping back, so close to where she wants them. 

"There's a couple of dresses I never wear...wait, you never noticed?"

"Why would I notice?"

"Well with the amount of time you spend staring at my ass.."

He turns red and actually sputters. 

Felicity rolls her eyes. "Oliver, you just got me like 60% naked and your fingers are heading home, you're allowed to admit you love my ass". 

She reaches back and slips one hand in the back of his suit pants, past his boxers, until she hits firm muscle. 

"God knows I love yours". 

Oliver finally relaxes and laughs a little. 

Then he withdraws his hand (she protests), and plants it firmly on the back of her skirt and squeezes, before finding the zipper and pulling it down. 

"It is in the top tier of asses". 

That gets a genuine giggle and blush from her, and she busies herself with unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants.

"Boxers, I know a few blogs who would like to know that information". 

After removing those, Felicity grips the base of his dick (he yelps in a most unmanly fashion, she'll never tell) and takes a moment to admire it. 

"Wait, do you have a condom?"

He freezes up, gears turning in his head. 

"My wallet's at my desk..."

Felicity bites her bottom lip, thinking. 

They're in a fairly out of the way part of the office. She could conceivably get back to his desk and get back without being seen, but they only have so much time...

She makes up her mind, taking the head of his dick between her lips determinedly, before popping back to say, 

"Well, thank God we both have mouths and hands". 

And it is nice to have something where her hyperactive mouth is appreciated. 

Oliver seems especially appreciative of the teasing, dragging, darting movements of her tongue. 

She in turn, loves the feeling of his dick slowly sliding through her lips as her head bobs. 

His breathing is getting frantic, and god, that turns her on more than anything. That her, Felicity Smoak, cute, babbly, technology nerd her, could make this man, this powerful man that struck fear into the hearts of Starling City's criminals, lose control. 

She feels him tug gently on her ponytail, and mutter "Felicity, I" as his hips begin to jerk. 

So she pulls back, looks up, winks at him, and sucks him down as far as she can. 

Her names comes out of his mouth garbled as his release fills her mouth in spurts and his breathing begins to even. 

Before she can even consider the state of her lipstick, Oliver pulls her back up to him, wraps his arms around her and kisses her senseless.

At some point they've ended up on the floor, and when he finally lets her breathe, the babbling starts back up in full force. 

"Wow, I mean, I've heard of guys being grateful for blowjobs before, but if I'd know you were going to be that happy..."

She doesn't get to finish as the words are torn from her mouth by his tongue on her clit. 

His nose nuzzles the little patch of golden brown hair above before digging back in and firmly licking her swollen pussy in agonizingly long stripes. 

Nothing that comes out after that is intelligable. 

Felicity's very vocal in bed, but now she's incredibly grateful that vocal doesn't necessarily mean loud. 

When she starts panting, Oliver switches tactics. He slips two fingers from one hand into her sopping wet entrance, while the thumb of his other continues stroking her clit, all the while his tongue keeps sliding around her engorged lips.

Her panting has become full-on, porn star moaning. 

"Oh god, Oliver, don't stop, please don't stop". 

And just as she starts to tense, he adds another finger, and rolls her clit between his lips. 

Felicity's orgasm hits her so hard she doesn't even have time to be embarrassed by the noise that escapes her. It sounds rather like "ngurgughs".

She exhales hard, trying to catch her breathe. 

Oliver is pressed close beside her, grinning. 

Amazing orgasms aside, this thing, whatever they call it, will be worth it all for that smile. 

She rests her head on his shoulder. 

"How much longer do we have?"

He retrieves his phone from his pants pocket. 

"Five minutes."

Felicity groans. "We better go clean up. I need to fix my lipstick. If we're both late someone will notice."

And so they both rise, and slowly redress. She insists on helping him rebutton his shirt. 

Before she unblocks the door, he touches her back. 

"Your skirt zipper's crooked". 

"Oh" she says as he straightens it. "Thanks". 

She checks down the hallway before they leave. 

"Coast's clear". 

As their walking back, she hears him chuckle. 

"I still can't believe you go commando at work." 

She flushes. 

"Well, I still can't believe you didn't notice. Next thing, you'll be telling me you didn't realize I don't wear a bra all the time."

Oliver freezes a few steps behind her. 

"Oh come on Oliver, I thought you had like a graduate degree in perving on women?"

He grunts. 

"Well it's a good thing the Arrow's not supposed to be a great detective, because your observation skills are terrible". 

He catches up and touches her hand. 

"...How do you expect me to get any work done at all now?"

Felicity smirks. The power is back in her court. 

She reaches up to touch the stubble on his chin. 

"Well, we could always try to desensitize you a little. Say, my place at six, bring some takeout?"

He smiles again, "It's a date".


	2. Chapter 2

While Felicity would have never truly called herself a morning person, she had always enjoyed the morning after.

Something about the feeling of newness, combined with the feeling of sun streaming through her window onto her pleasantly sore limbs just made her feel alive. 

The fact that this first-morning-after bedmate was Oliver, boss, partner, long lusted after friend, infuriatingly dear worm that wiggled his way into her heart, made it even better. 

He had showed up at her townhouse last night, at six on the dot with a container of orange chicken and a bottle of wine. 

They'd even eaten and drank some before hitting the couch and making a dent in the box of condoms she'd been sure to pick up on the way home. 

Well, the couch first. Then her hallway wall, then the floor, before finally making it to her bed. 

He was still sleeping soundly. Felicity took a moment to gaze at his face. It seemed so peaceful now, in sleep. She wonders how often he has a good night's sleep. Between her day job and nights helping protect the city, Felicity rarely gets a good eight hours herself, she can only imagine what it's like for him, 

Maybe that's what they both needed- a night of newly explored feelings followed by a long rest. 

It was even a Saturday, so they had no particular reason to get out of bed until they decided there was a compelling enough reason.

Felicity has one, namely that her bladder has inflated to roughly the size of Lake Michigan.

Once she's finished her business, she brushes her teeth. When she comes back in her room, Oliver is amazingly still asleep. 

So she slips back under the covers. They both work all the time, they deserve a little lie-in. 

She initially tries to go back to sleep, but her stomach is giddy. She pulls her pillow over her face and lets herself squeal a little. Because part of her had truly expected this, the whole "finally slept with (super hot) Oliver, multiple times, with enough squishy words spoken to indicate at least some reciprocity on the intense romantic feelings even if it was a little vague"- to end up having been a dream.

But it wasn't a dream, and Oliver is still sleeping, nude, beside her. 

The sunlight is hitting him at a perfect angle, making his already Adonis-like build look even more ridiculously golden. 

He's sleeping soundly enough that Felicity lets her fingertips explore him softly. 

Over all the hard muscle, his skin is surprisingly soft. The stubble on his chin is less bristly than she would have thought. There's a scattering of freckles on his stomach (she's seen it before, but never close enough to see them, let alone trace the path they take). 

The scars and tattoos are all there, plain as day. She traces them too. Felicity's always had a little bit of a thing for both, but she knows they bring Oliver so much pain that it's hard to find them arousing. They're not ugly though, no matter what he says. They're just a part of the patchwork plane that is Oliver Queen.

Oliver's gone still enough that she can tell he's starting to wake and fighting it. When she trails a finger alone the join between this shoulder and his neck (which, she had learned, is surprisingly ticklish), he jerks and rolls on his side petulantly. 

She snorts. 

"Did you know you have a mole on your butt?" She reaches out to poke the offending spot. He growls in return, resembling nothing more greatly than a very buff, blonde grizzly bear. 

She decides to take a more gentle approach. She kisses the back of his neck, nuzzling his hairline. Then she slides her lips forward and sucks gently on his earlobe. 

She can feel the corner of his lips quirk into a smile. She leans up to rest her chin on the crook of his neck as his eyes open. Ocean blue and as open and innocent as she's ever seen him. 

"Hi"

"Hi"

Oliver's full on smiling now, so she feels comfortable nudging him onto his back.

"So, Oliver Queen, billionaire playboy CEO by day, broody leather clad superhero by night, and so completely not a morning person. If we ever have any really hard to take out baddies we'll just have to have them sneak up on you and make you up from a nap". 

He reaches up to thread his fingers through her hair. 

"I can think of many worse ways to wake up".

Felicity smiles, despite herself. Then she reaches to stroke his morning wood. 

"I probably should have warned you that I tend to wake up really horny". 

He sits up enough to kiss her breathless. Once they part, and Felicity has managed to regain her cognitive faculties, he says. 

"I can probably accomodate that". 

One hand snakes over to her bedside table to grab a condon. He's sheathed in record time it seems. She swings a leg over and slides down. The morning has left her wet and tingly, so they come together with ease. 

It's unhurried. Not that last night had been all fire and passion. There had been an almost shocking amount of gentleness in Oliver's hands at times, as well as moments of heart melting sweetness. 

But there isn't any need to rush now. Felicity isn't wondering if she's going to open her eyes and wake up, and Oliver isn't so convinced that if he doesn't hold onto her tight she'll disappear. 

It's a joining of two bodies, two becoming one. A tantalizing slow grind. And they have all the time in the world. 

By the time Felicity nears her climax, her hips are rocking so hard that she's lost all sense of rhythm. She reaches out and grabs her headboard so hard it clangs against the wall that she's very glad isn't shared right now, 

Oliver pushes up and wraps both his arms around her, resting on her butt. He cradles her hips and holds her steady as her world explodes into a burst of light. 

She pulls him to her as she comes down and he starts to get closer to his own orgasm. When he comes, he grips her so hard she'll probably have fingerprint bruises on her ass all day. 

Slow doesn't have to mean soft. 

Then as they both come down, they melt into a lazy, languid pile again.

Oliver has an almost whiny tone to his voice when he asked "Do we have to be anywhere today?"

Felicity laughts, then replies "It's Saturday. You and Diggle are going on patrol, but not until tonight. You could call him like last night, but if you take two days off in a row, he might assume you've been taken over by a pod person". 

He fixes her with a gaze. 

"I'm not a pod person, I'm just...happy". 

Felicity reaches and touches the side of his face. "To most of us, that seems almost like the same thing."

"I don't ever want to get out of this bed". 

Almost as if on a timer, Felicity's stomach growls. 

"How about some breakfast to break things up? I hear bed sores really hurt too". 

She makes herself stand up. 

"Do you want to shower? I usually take mine at night, but I know a lot of people don't and I figured I should ask..."

Oliver forces himself to sit up. 

"Where are my clothes?"

Felicity tries to think back to last night without losing her train of thought. 

"They should be by the couch, but I got pretty good air on your shirt, so you might have to hunt for it". 

She smacks him on the shoulder as encouragement. 

"Go ahead, I'll clean up and let you have the bathroom."

Felicity get up, and pulls a pair of gray sweats and a pink hoodie from her drawer. Today's definitely a comfortable day. 

She's just pulled on her underwear and is reaching for her pants when Oliver comes back in holding a pile of his clothes. 

He stops to look her up and down, which makes Felicity almost want to hide herself even though he has become intimately familiar with every inch of her body over the last day. 

Then he chuckles. 

"What?"

He gestures at her panties, and she looks down. Dark purple cotton, with polka dots, they're not exactly supermodel worthy, but she thinks they're...

She rolls her eyes. This particular pair has a heart on the front that reads "Tap me".

"Well I'm glad you're enjoying them, because this is about as sexy as you're getting on a regular day", she says, pulling her sweats on.

He kisses her, "You could probably wear knee length pantaloons and I would find them sexy". 

"Good to know, I'll keep that in mind if I never need to go undercover as a historical reenactor."

"Besides" he says, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her, "I know I have a better than even chance of not finding anything under your skirt". 

Felicity wrinkles her nose "I'm never going to live that down am I?

"Nope" Oliver replies, kissing her temple. 

"Like you have any room to talk"

His eyes get wide before responding "...what do you mean?"

"Oliver," Felicity says, fixing him with a look that implies that he's rather dim "I have eyes. You regularly invade my space wearing skintight leather and do strenuous physical training wearing nothing but sweats. Sweats that dip rather low I might add, and that give me more than a little of a show. All of which does absolutely nothing for my productivity mind you."

He kisses her again "I guess we're bad for each other's work. A couple of your dresses have seriously tested my resolve over this time". 

"Yeah, maybe one day I'll come to work in yoga pants and a sports bra and do my morning workout two feet from your desk and show you what it's really like."

His face freezes, but this time in a dazed smile. Felicity rolls her eyes, and pats his shoulders. 

"Down boy. Shower, then food, then we can talk about getting dirty again. There's an extra toothbrush in my medicine cabinet"

She kisses his forehead, pulls on her hoodie and leaves her room. 

Felicity would never be called a gourmet chef, but she's proficient enough to feed herself. Breakfasts are a bit of a specialty, developed after an adolescence of cooking for her mother post night shift (and occasionally, post hangover). 

French toast sounds good. She sets the coffee pot, and gets out the eggs. 

The coffee's done, on the table and she's just spatula'd up the second slice of toast onto a plate when Oliver emerges from her bathroom. He's in the same gray shirt and tan shorts he was wearing when he came over last night. His hair is stil damp. She likes seeing him like this. Not Mr. Queen, CEO, or the Arrow, hooded menace to all of Starling's criminals. Just Oliver. She doesn't feel like many people get to see it. 

She grabs the syrup and sets the plate down on the other side of her little table. "Hope you like french toast". 

He smiles, grins really, and sits. 

After a few bites, he asks. 

"Do you have any soap that doesn't smell like flowers?"

She snorts. Her usual soap is bright pink and cherry blossom scented. She'd almost forgotten. 

"Nope. If you want to smell like Old Spices you'll have to bring your own". 

"I should keep a razor here too," he says, absentmindedly touching his chin, "Or I'm going to end up looking like a mountain man". 

Felicity's fork freezes halfway to her mouth. 

"Is that what this is? The whole sharing living space and stuff? I kind of thought so, but didn't want to presume, I mean, god how awkward would that be, it's not like anyone else even knows, the secret thing always has some appeal but it's kind of demeaning, I thought for a minute you might be embarrassed by me, I didn't think so but I hate mysteries and need really definite answers..."

He reaches out to grab her wrist, "Felicity, breathe". 

She takes a deep breath, and another bite of toast. 

"Oliver, are we dating?"

He gets up from his chair and crosses the short distance between his side and hers. He pulls her to standing, grasps her hands firmly in hers.

"Felicity Smoak, I will gladly call you my girlfriend if you will have me."

Felicity's whole body is suddenly full of the same buoyant light she felt upon waking. 

She lets go of his hands, and wraps them around his shoulders. 

"Good, because I'm not letting you go easily." 

They start kissing again, and some of the fire from the night before is creeping back in. She's sucked his bottom lip between hers, when he hoists her up on the kitchen counter and starts slowly working the zipper on her hoodie.

"Aren't you worried about breakfast?" He says, a mischevious twinkle in his eye. 

She pulls the zipper the rest of the way, and shrugs it off. 

"It'll still be there when we're done". 

Breakfast is cold by the time they finish it, but Felicity thinks it was worth it.


End file.
